


Watermelon Bubblegum and a Hint of Mint

by EarlineNathaly



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: But also a little spicy, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8614666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarlineNathaly/pseuds/EarlineNathaly
Summary: Poppy and Branch are getting used to having talks under the moonlight in the highest spot of the Toll Tree before bed. They share secrets, fears, hopes, dreams, and perhaps, even a heartfelt, most needed kiss.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Did somebody say ANOTHER KISS? Did somebody say an actual kiss, perhaps even make out? Well, I surely hope so because that’s what you’re getting.

The best thing about living in the Troll Tree was the height. It was really tall. Poppy had also picked the highest pod to live, so she could watch over every single one of her friends, her people. As a bonus, she got to sneak out to one of the most elevated branches of the tree almost every night after a long day of singing, dancing, and new treaties of friendship with the Bergens with her… er, _roommate_.

 

After discovering there were too many Trolls for the current number of available pods on the Tree, they came to the conclusion they would have to share until they could grow as many pods as necessary. As Bergen Town also changed and was now a very colorful, environment-friendly city, King Gristle had told her, she only had to say the word and the Trolls could start to grow pods on every tree they wanted.

 

Poppy had thanked him, but decided that it would be better to keep the Trolls in one place where she could easily watch over them at first, at least until they acclimated to the city. The good thing was that the Troll Tree had enough room to grow enough pods, but it would take time. It would also be quicker to grow them all in one place too.

 

So, until all the pods were ready, some Trolls would have to share. They didn’t mind that much, but Poppy insisted that everyone got their own pod first before her, because what kind of ruler would she be if she was selfish? It definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fact that she was having the time of her life sharing a home with Branch.

 

True, it would have been easier if she shared with DJ Suki or Satin and Chenille, but they all were already sharing a pod alongside with Smidge, and four Trolls was as many as you could fit in a pod. Poppy had the feeling they did it on purpose, but she bit back any comment.

 

At the beginning, she thought that he wouldn’t want to share, not after all of those years of solitude. Surely, he’d opposed.

 

“It’s not like I can say no,” he said instead, to her delight. “Everyone is sharing. Besides…” he looked sheepish. “You are the one I feel more comfortable with.”

 

She had been so happy she hadn’t stopped singing three days straight. It almost made him change his mind. Almost.

 

After the first week of living together, they started a sort of routine. After coming home from a long day, they would wash up and have a little snack before bed outside the pod, backs supported by the trunk of the Tree, watching the stars and sometimes singing quietly.

 

But the best part were the talks.

 

They soon started to talk about everything and nothing. It began as a game of silly questions to pass the time, which led them to discussions of the most mundane of things. Those were nights they would laugh at not that funny jokes or make them defend heatedly stupid points of view that they didn’t really care about just for the sake of keep talking inside of each other’s personal space.

 

But then again, there would be nights where they would talk about more serious things. They would start slow and with soft voices, but they’d end up sharing their secrets, their insecurities, their dreams, their hopes for the future, their past nightmares and their present aspirations. Those were the best nights; the nights were they got to know each other a little better, like no one else did.

 

Tonight was one of those meaningful nights.

 

“Do you ever feel nervous or… anxious around the Bergens?” Branch had asked. “I mean, I know they are no longer going to eat us, but…” he trailed off, but Poppy knew what he meant.

 

“Yeah,” she confessed after a pause. Branch lifted his eyes to hers quickly.

 

“You do?”

 

She chuckled, but her heart wasn’t in it.

 

“Yeah, of course I do. Don’t act so surprised. We have years and years of hiding from them before us, fearing them before this peace. I think it’s in our instincts to run away from them.” Poppy recognized.

 

Branch supposed she was right and felt bad about assuming that she didn’t get scared because she didn’t show it. She was the queen, after all. She had to be confident and give her people the example. Branch put his hand on her shoulder and she leaned a little in his direction.

 

“The Bergens who look especially mad or angry are the hardest to be around,” she continued. “I still feel the urge to run and hide from them, sometimes. So you’re not the only one. But… but even if we want to camouflage so we won’t get eaten, we had managed to keep a cool head and stay calm, mostly. So, I know we’ll be okay.” Her voice acquired a more cheerful tone and she felt the smile returning to her face.

 

She was hopeful, and things were looking bright for the future. Why wouldn’t they be? She had amazing friends, they sang and danced and hug every day, the Bergens were their friends now, and she wouldn’t change that for anything in the world. She also had Branch beside her, and that was precious.

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “It’ll be fine,” he reassured both of them. “I’m sure the feeling will go away, eventually. So let’s not worry about it.”

 

“Aww, Branch,” Poppy teased, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. “Look at you. Advising not to worry. I’m so proud.”

 

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

 

“And look at _you_. Worrying too much.” He shoved her lightly too but it only encouraged her to lean on him, this time for sure. He didn’t mind.

 

They fell silent for a few minutes, only enjoying each other’s company. Poppy took Branch’s hand and squeezed it, smiling at their intertwined fingers. The sensation of his hand on hers was one of her favorite things in the world. His hand was slightly bigger than hers and for some odd reason, it made her happy.

 

She then had an idea. One of the best ways to fight against what makes you anxious is to make it funny and laugh it off. She sat up straight suddenly and with a mischievous smile and with a smug face, she asked.

 

“Okay, next question. It’s my turn. What do you think you taste like, Branch?”

 

“What?” his surprised face made her laugh.

 

“Yeah, you know. Trolls are delicious to the Bergens, so I confess I have wondered once or twice what would I taste like. You’re gonna tell me you haven’t?”

 

“No!” Branch looked alarmed. “Why would I wonder something like that?”

 

“It’s fun, I guess? In a creepy sort of way? I say I taste like watermelon.”

 

“What?” Branch was still getting used to the swings of mood the conversations with Poppy could take. One moment they’re talking about their insecurities and the next they are discussing the possible flavor they have. Still, he just had to ask, “Why like watermelon?”

 

“I don’t know. Strawberry is a too obvious choice. Besides, strawberries are red, not pink. And I like watermelon better," she said in that quick cadence she used when she wanted to shrug something off. 

 

Branch processed her answer for a couple of seconds before shaking his head and chuckling.

 

“Sometimes you’re really weird, Poppy.”

 

“And sometimes you should loosen up a bit, otherwise you might turn gray again. C’mon, it’s your turn. What do you think you taste like?”

 

Branch lifted his arms in a mock gesture of desperation.

 

“How am I supposed to know? I don’t even wanna think about it!”

 

“C’mon, Branch! It’s fun! Just take a guess. Based on your personality, favorite food and personal expectations of your pigmentation, what do you _think_ ,” she put emphasis on that word, “you taste like?”

 

He sighed and thought about it for a moment. Poppy was pleased with his meditation. Well, he liked mint tea. Did that count? But how can you tell what you taste like based on the color of your skin? Or perhaps his hair? Is there even a flavor associated with the color of his hair? He spent most of his life monochrome, what if he didn’t have flavor at all?

 

“Argh, I don’t know, Poppy!” he grunted. “It’s not like I can bite myself and tell you!”

 

Poppy’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, an idea forming in her mind.

 

“But I could!” she exclaimed excitedly. Branch looked at her with big, scared eyes.

 

“No, Poppy, please don’t bite…!”

 

But she did. She bit him. On the lips.

 

Gently, of course. She didn’t even use her teeth, she just bit his upper lip softly with her own, but the best part was that the tip of her tongue flickered inside his mouth briefly, stealing a playful ‘taste’.

 

When she straightened her back again and could see his face, she blushed. It had been a little bit more daring of what she had thought it would be, but then she saw his expression. It was pure poetry. His cheeks were a darker shade of blue, enough that his glitter freckles sparkled in the moonlight.

 

He did have a taste, she realized, but halfway the tingle of her tongue and the heating of her own face she couldn’t concentrate to catch it. Perhaps blueberries, but she wasn’t sure. The only thing she knew was that she wanted more.

 

He seemed to have the same idea, because before she could lean in and repeat her bold action, he was already sneaking a hand behind her head and guiding her lips to his greedy ones.

 

It was uncommon for Branch to initiate affection quite so passionately, and it was certainly the first time he kissed her this way, but she loved it. She discovered a new way to dance that didn’t require moving her feet and was quickly preferring this waltz to the other.  

 

He nibbled at her lips too and she sighed at the sensation, getting closer to him so she wouldn’t lose it. After a few minutes, she crawled into his lap when her waist began to cramp for being twisted and she couldn’t get closer. He cradled her in his arms, holding her close, caressing her back with one hand and her face with the other. She whimpered and gnawed his mouth gently but intently to deepen the kiss.

 

They were even sharing their breaths the few seconds they parted for air and yes, definitely it was blueberry. And lemon. Yes, there was the distinctive, acidic, sour taste of lemon. Branch tasted of blueberries and lemon. And something else.

 

There was another faint flavor mixed with the other ones, but she couldn’t quite place it. That wouldn’t do. She had to know it. They then broke for air, panting in each other’s face, delightfully intoxicated. Poppy took the opportunity and grabbed his face with both hands, going for a full open mouth kiss. She gave him a thoughtful lick and he grunted. Poppy felt him squeeze her hips hard and gasped.

 

Mint.

 

It was mint. He tasted of the herbal tea she sometimes had during winter or rainy days. It never failed to warm her heart and calm her nerves. Just like him. She smiled into the kiss, and they kept going at it until the moon was high in the sky, their hair was intertwined and they were as breathless as two almost drowned Trolls.

 

They parted with an almost too loud, wet pop and stayed close until they caught their breath. Once they did, Poppy looked at him with a satisfying grin on her face. Unable to hold her curiosity anymore, she questioned.

 

“Well? What do I taste like?” she asked, expectantly. “And don’t try to tell me you don’t know because I know for a fact I have a flavor.”

 

Branch chuckled, brushed a strand of hair off her face and played along.

 

“Yeah? And why are you so sure?”

 

“Because you have one too,” she said matter-of-factly. “And I won’t tell you unless you tell me.”

 

Branch averted his eyes, smiling bashfully.

 

“Watermelon Bubblegum,” he finally confessed. “And cotton candy”

 

Her smile was so wide, it almost didn’t fit her face.

 

“I knew it!” she sang. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

 

She kissed his nose happily and noisily. He laughed.

 

“Alright, alright. You knew it, you’re the best at guessing creepy things about yourself. You happy now?”

 

“Almost,” she said. “Don’t you wanna know what you taste like?”

 

“You’re gonna tell me anyway.”

 

Poppy pouted.

 

“Well, if you’re not curious, I can always keep a secret.” She let go of his shoulders to cross her arms in a mock attempt to look mad. “And I worked so hard to get the flavor right.”

 

That made him laugh wholeheartedly.

 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m dying of curiosity. Please, Queen Poppy. Do tell me what do I taste like.”

 

She let the smile return to her face and her hands to his shoulders.

 

“Blueberry,” she said. “And lemon. With a hint of mint.”

 

Branch arched a brow.

 

“Seriously?”

 

Poppy giggled.

 

“Yes, seriously. Only you could manage to taste sour and fresh at the same time.”

 

Branch smile faltered a little.

 

“Sour?”

 

Poppy’s eyes softened and she caressed his cheek.

 

“Hey,” she pecked his lips, “it happens to be my favorite flavor.”

 

He put his hand on top of the one she had on his face, falling a little bit more in love with her tenderness.

 

“Oh, yeah? Since when?” he whispered, her face getting closer.

 

“Since now”, she stated and closed the gap. "It's the best thing I've ever tasted."

 

After that night their hearts were a little bit fuller and their colors a little bit brighter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dying to write a little bit more of the snack pack, and yet... here I am. Just writing fluff of the same two dorks. Ugh. What am I gonna do with myself?


End file.
